Rainbow over EEB's

Photo by Bob Kraemer

One autumn weekend

On Saturday, we went for a ride around the lake with Elden. The dark, imposing clouds were set against the deep blue sky of the late afternoon. A strong breeze came from the southwest. We talked about the weather, our lake neighbors, and what a wise guy Huck was. Elden said that we should be sure to see the west side of the lake around eight in the morning when all of the colors are alive like fire.

And, so we did.



















After our breakfast, Sandra and I toured the lake by canoe. The lake was pretty much quiet - just a few people fishing and one guy taking advantage of the low water to work on the stone wall on his shore. Some of the camps are closed up for the season, but lots of folks still have their boats in the water. The dogs at one camp let us know that they'd didn't like it that we were so close to their property. We heeded their warning and made our way back to the camp for mid-morning coffee.

Some headlines are too good to pass up

Brain-sucking parasitic killer menaces warming lake waters | The Register

The CDC reports that the offending amoeba lives in warm to hot waters, so there's little worry here.

Dry colors

You wouldn't think that our dry spell would have much of an effect near the lake, but we are seeing everywhere fall colors, even in the swamp. Many maples are a bright orange. Birches show.a yellowish orange. And the weather is so warm, more of a late August weekend.

The kids report that the water is cold. We'll find out with our sauna this evening. We need to remove a ladder from our float so that the ice won't eat it this winter.

Mike took the boat to the marina this afternoon. The propellor had a bad season, so we'll need a new one for the spring. We've learned that, as much as it seems like a good idea, putting the boat into the water at the boathouse isn't good. There are too many rocks to have us move safely out of the little cove under power. Next year, we'll launch it from the beach.

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Dept. of Knots

Knots are important, whether you're tying up a boat, making a swing, or splicing some rope. And, like me, you probably weren't paying attention when someone tried to teach you how to tie good knots. This site -
Animated Knots by Grog - is a helpful resource. It may not be quite so helpful if you're trying to secure your boat on a windy day, but you can see the site with your cell phone's browser.

BetaNews | DirecTV to Offer Internet Over Power Lines

It will be several years before a service such as this is available everywhere, but it is, in my opinion, the best way to bring broadband to rural areas.

BetaNews | DirecTV to Offer Internet Over Power Lines

New residents on the lake

Rec'd this in the overnight email:

Karl,

I thought you might be interested in this, and perhaps want to include it on your website.

This past Friday, August 10, 2007, was a quiet rainy day at the lake. That changed in dramatic fashion at about 2:00 p.m. when we heard the unmistakable cry of the loon from the middle of the lake. We ran down to the dock to see the loon swimming just north of Lamb's Cove. Our neighbor, Fred Swedberg, also came to watch, and he commented that never in his 59 years had he heard such a racket on the water.

The loon seemed to be enjoying hearing his echo bouncing off the western side of the lake, and kept calling for several minutes. We thought we heard a second loon calling in response from the south end of the lake.

We watched for about half and hour. During that time the loon made several dives and resurfaced at various places in the southern part of the lake. The longest dive started near the island and after about two minutes the loon popped up north of Lamb's Cove again, and then slowly swam north toward the swamp at the northwest end of the lake.

Don Wilson commented the next day that he thinks a pair of loons may be nesting in the swamp, and he also noted that loons like to be in a quiet spot away from people, so it is best not to try to get close to them if we want to encourage them to live on the lake.

It was almost exactly a year ago that I saw a loon very close to our dock. This year I was more prepared with binoculars and a camera, and I was able to get two pictures, although the images are not very distinct.

The loon was calling loudly again during the night, and woke the Lafortune family at about 4:00 a.m. when he was in Lamb's Cove. We also heard more distant calls after sunrise on Sunday.

We will be watchful when we are at the lake, and we hope to enjoy more loon activity during the remainder of the summer!

Paul and Nordie Sundberg

Lighthouse Rd.

The lake is under water

That was some storm, wasn't it? The winds that churned the water into a white froth, the walls of rain so thick that we couldn't see across the lake, the hail.

And, not to be forgottrn, the mighty lightning and thunder. One spot, a few miles away, just to the south of west, took a half dozen hits. We listened to the different cadences of the thunder - booming, rolling, sharp,machine gun.

The main cell passed over us from the northwest in fiften minutes, but other cells drifted slowly north and south, for close to an hour. Marley huddled under the table on the porch while we had our supper, shaking.

About Huck

Huck

Liked his small cup of coffee with milk and two spoonfuls of sugar.

Liked well-done, dark brown Finn bread with his coffee; this was his last meal.

Had a quick wit and a measured pace.

Sang old sweet songs like “Moonlight Bay” to me when he took me sailing.

Played a Swedish polka tape loudly on his car radio.

Gave us great stories well-told.

Drove miles to find the right board at the right price.

Got along well with his neighbors.

Kept a neat yard and tidy house.

Liked to sleep with the window open at his head.

Believed that many problems were best solved by pondering.

Was a key character at Queen Lake, according to author Carole Gariepy.

Grieved when he had to sell his last sailboat, but he wouldn’t sell it to us.

Had sauna with Ted Fornas, his childhood friend, every other Sunday, or so.

Missed his friends who’d died like Arne Riutta and Ben Stuckey.

Counted on his remaining friends including Elden, Willy, Jimmy, and Bobby.

• Elden Bjurling, half Finn, lives at Queen Lake, has a plumbing supply store, and funeral parlor (the body shop)
• Willy Virta, a Finn, helped with Huck’s projects, was the son of a preacher.
• Jimmy Flanagan with the big family was a fellow welder.
• Bobby Nadeau with the good wife, was also a welder.

Was a high-bar gymnast.

Rode the rails across the country for adventure and work.

Was a Merchant Marine in WWII who sailed to Santos, Brazil, for coffee.

Built the camp at Queen Lake and the house at 218 Ellis Road.

Ran a welding school and business for awhile in the garage.

Liked pretty women.

Divorced Thelmama after 20 years.

Was a responsible oldest son, who cared for his parents next door ‘til their deaths.

Gave a sentimental birthday card to Karl each year, with money matching his age.

Played semi-pro football with the Gardner Merchants.

Was born in Milford NH where his father worked in the quarries.

Could sail, as his friend, Don Wilson said, with no wind.

Died quietly, in his sleep, at home in front of a low fire in the wood stove.

Put his chewing gum on top of his hat when he was eating.

Believed that admiring your work was the finishing step of any project.

Was frugal with money and emotion, and left us with lots of both.

Loved us, his family.

2007

We made a board.

For the last 30 years, the rain has been flowing off the roof and hitting this particular board on the front deck. (Before that, the deck was much smaller, so there was no board to be hit by falling water.) The board was about to let go. So, with great resolve and greater trepidation, we set about to fix the deck.

You have to understand that, when carpentry genes were being handed out, I was at the other end of the store, reading comic books. I took shop in junior high school because I had to. All that's left from those two years of learning is a small, pitiable book stand that sits on a shelf at the camp.

In the boathouse, we found enough to get us started. There was a length of 2x6 pressure-treated wood on the rack. We didn't have a Skil^® saw, so we had to choose between a Sawzalls^® and my grandfather's table saw. The table saw won because we believed we had a better chance to cut a straight line with it. Even though the blade wasn't quite right, so we couldn't cut through the 2" on one pass, Sandra got us to a board that was the proper length, width, and depth.

Removing an old, rotten board ought to be easy, eh? It probably would be if we had the right tools. We had a crow bar that was too big and a hammer that was too small. The hammer broke on the third nail. The crow bar was unwieldy, particularly on the nails that had rusted and snapped off at the head. With persistence and a pair of locking pliers, we removed the board and nails.

We thought that screws would be better than nails. Sandra pre-drilled the holes and we used the screwdriver attachment on the drill to drive in the screws. Two stripped screw heads later, we agreed that nails were just fine. I used the butt end of a hatchet to drive the nails flush with the surface.

It took just about an hour and now we have a new board, along with a continuing happy marriage and all of our fingers and toes,
___
With apologies to Dave Barry's classic, "How to make a board."

By canoe

While Sandra and I were having breakfast this morning, we watched a woman gracefully paddle her wooden canoe along the shoreline of the cove. She was accompanied by a black Lab who sat quietly in the front.

The last time we took Marley, our Lab, in the canoe was in the fall several years ago. We were just getting out of the cove when he noticed something of great interest in the woods. He lurched to the starboard side and tipped the canoe, tossing us into the chilly water. The canoe righted itself with Marley aboard. Fortunately, we were just a short distance from shore.

If you're ever diving along the north tip of the cove and find a pair of glasses, they're probably mine.

Marley stays in the camp now when we go out in the canoe.

The berries are in

Roadside farm stands began offering blueberries and raspberries this week. The blueberries are good, but are tart from their fast growth; the skins are tough. Our wild berries near the boathouse and along the road are still a week or two away.

Raspberries, when fresh, are always good. They' at their best at room temperature.
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Sometimes, the light of the lake comes to us.

This time of year, the afternoon and evening sun is reflected off of the water and onto the ceiling in the camp. First, the shimmering brightens the porch and, later, the main room of the camp, as though the Northern Lights had settled inside. We have a light breeze. The air is dry and fresh. We can see forever.
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Oh, say can you see...

Let's raise a cheer for the folks who set off a four-minute fireworks display 20 minutes before sunset.

Over the horizon (G'bye, Huck)

On Monday, 15 January, my father passed away in his sleep, by the fire in the wood stove in his living room. Huck was 93. An ice storm had come through on Monday, leaving us without power for 12 hours. What work we had to do, we did by the light of flashlights, candles, and kerosene lamp.

He left as he lived. His last meal was a half cup of coffee and bit of Finnish coffee bread, kahvi leipa, that grandson Adam had made. His family and friends came to visit and to share stories of a remarkable life.

Huck loved sailing and sailed until he was 90. If you're clever, and he was, you can use the strength of the wind to go where you want to go. Many times, when we were sure that there was no wind at all, he kept the boat moving and made it safely to shore.

And so it was, when it was dark and quiet, he sailed on home.